Truth and Lies
by asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: Although they are not required to have therapy anymore, Travis has some weird feelings for his partner he wants to talk over with Dr. Ryan.
1. Chapter 1

She was carrying two folding chairs back to their spots when he poked his head into the room. It was familiar and yet oddly strange, even though it had only been a matter of weeks since he'd last set foot inside. The comforting presence of Dr. Ryan was what drew him inside in the end.

"Travis?" She looked up from the stack of metal chairs, surprise on her face. "What are you doing here? You and Wes are no longer required to attend these meetings."

That he was late, whether he had to be there or not, was left unspoken. It was kind of a moot point anyway because, when left to his own devices, Travis Marks was almost always late. He wanted to blame it on his nature, or traffic, or any number of things, but he knew the truth was that when it came to things that he didn't want to do, he drug his feet.

"Dr. Ryan," he said, traces of that trademark grin crossing his mouth. "I'm having some trouble and I thought maybe you would help me out."

Shoving the last folding chair into the holder, she rubbed her hands together, thinking. "Are you and Wes fighting again?"

Her question startled him. "No. No we're…" He was at a loss. Just what were they anyway? In the six weeks since they'd gotten justice for Paekman and cleared their own smudged records, things had changed. But how much? Things were good, but that didn't feel like the right word to use. Fine felt the same way, like it fell just short of actually being accurate. Travis decided that honesty was the best route here, like it or not. "To tell the truth, I don't know how we are."

"The yoga group is coming in a few minutes," she said, looking towards the door. "How about I meet you at the café on the corner in ten minutes?"

Travis thought that was a terrible idea, but he agreed to it all the same. He'd arrived when he had so that Dr. Ryan would only have a limited amount of time to pick his brain over this whole partner issue thing he was dealing with. Going for coffee was only going to complicate things. She might even make him confess to things he wasn't sure he was ready to admit – or commit – to yet. On the other hand, if he didn't figure this mess out soon, he and Wes would be back in therapy because he was four seconds from strangling his partner.

After parking his motorcycle, he'd gone inside and secured them a table near one of the large picture windows. The view wasn't anything much – just the typical L. A. street view of cars, shops, and assorted riffraff – but the sun streaming in was calling his name. Seating himself on the side facing the entrance, he ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. He could picture Wes' frown as he asked for vanilla ice cream along with his dessert, and it made him smile.

"Whatever you're thinking about, it must be a happy thought."

Dr. Ryan took a seat across the table from him, beaming with something he couldn't place. "I was thinking about how much crap Wes would've given me for ordering pie and ice cream when I haven't even had breakfast yet." The smile returned, and it confused him. Why should he be happy knowing his choice would have annoyed his partner? "I was going to get you a cup of tea, but figured it'd be better to wait and ask."

"Always a smart choice." Flagging down the waitress, she ordered tea and a muffin. "Now talk to me, Travis. What's going on that you need my advice?"

The waitress returned with a pot of tea, a carafe of coffee, and his pie a la mode. Picking up his fork, he chipped at the streusel topping attempting to gather his thoughts. "I'm not sure. And I know that's not like me, usually I know what's really goin' on."

But not now. Why not now? He'd give anything to understand just what the heck was happening to him.

"Okay. So, let's start here. How is Wes?" She'd folded her hands and placed them on the Formica top in front of her.

Another grin threatened to break his face in two and he only barely managed to keep it in check, holding it at a wistful smile rather than an all-out toothy explosion. "Wes, man, he's doing good. Really good." It was true, too. He'd started looking for houses, even though Travis had suggested he start with a nice, upscale apartment complex. Wes wasn't having any of that though, no, he wanted a lawn, for the love of god. Something to care for. And – shit. And what? His mind always froze up at that point, thinking about Wes with his precious damn lawn. "He's thinking about buying a house. Has narrowed it down to two, actually. One's in a nicer neighborhood, but the other has more grass."

At this, Dr. Ryan smiled broadly. "He's moving on finally, that's wonderful." She removed the tea bag from her cup and sipped at the steaming liquid. "And what about you? Are you making any progress in your personal life?"

He stuck his fork into the ice cream and lifted a bite to his mouth. Sweetness coated his tongue as it melted and he instantly regretted having gone a la mode. Next time he'd stick with the whipped cream, or maybe even take the pie au naturel, since it seemed anything creamy and vanilla made him think of Wes. "I'm good too," he lied.

"Are you seeing anyone? Steadily, I mean."

Now there was a question he could answer honestly. "Nope, not seeing anyone at all."

"No one?" Dr. Ryan leaned forward, her curiosity – and frank disbelief – obvious. "Why not? I've never known you to be alone for long."

And that was the question, wasn't it? He looked down at his pie for a long moment, stalling by scooping a bite of ice cream, followed by a chunk of pie, onto his fork. Shoving it into his mouth, Travis savored the taste and feel of it on his tongue, against his teeth. The sweet vanilla melded with the tart apples, cinnamon adding a late punch, and he found himself allowing it to evoke a memory he'd nearly forgotten.

They'd stopped for breakfast one morning at a place a lot like this café. When Travis had ordered pie – it was chocolate silk that day – the blond had let him have it. It was too early, you need a good meal to start the day, blah blah blah. It hadn't kept him from ordering it anyway. And it hadn't kept Wes from stealing as many bites as he could, either. Somehow blondie had managed to eat nearly half of Travis' pie in between bites from his own bowl of oatmeal.

"You're smiling again."

Her softly accented voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Sorry. Thinking about a time when Wes harassed me for ordering pie and then proceeded to eat most of it."

Now she was smiling at him. "I think I know what you wanted to talk about," she said, sipping her tea. "Even if you won't admit to it, it's Wes, isn't it? His life changes are affecting you and you don't understand why."

Was that what was really bothering him? Causing all this chaos in his gut all day long? His thoughts drifted back to Wes' house choices and all the hullabaloo over the lawn. "I don't know what it is, Dr. Ryan, but he keeps obsessing over the lawn this one place has. He talks about planting flowers on the north side, but vegetables and herbs on the east. But you're right, it does bother me. It bothers me a lot."

"Do you think it has anything do with the fact that he didn't take your suggestion and move into an apartment?"

"No," he said, honest with himself for the first time all morning. "I didn't think he would. Wes is a house kind of guy. Taking care of the lawn, the plumbing, the –" Taking care of what? And why did he keep stumbling over this? "Taking care of everything. Like always."

"I see," she said, pouring more hot water into her cup. "And it bothers you that he's found something else to take care of?"

A heavy feeling weighed on him as he considered her words. Something in them was hitting a little too close to home, but it was eluding his grasp at every turn. Taking care of something new… taking care of everything, just like always.

Except it wasn't the same at all, nothing was like it had been before. Sure, the playful banter persisted, as well as his partner's never-ending lectures whenever he screwed something up, but the fact remained: things had changed. Mainly in that Wes trusted him more. He let him do his job and didn't question every move he made, giving him the freedom to be the best detective that he could be.

And that's what was freaking bothering him, damnit!

"You've had an epiphany, haven't you?"

He lifted his blue eyes and met her concerned gaze head on. "Yeah, I think I have."

"What was it, Travis?"

He'd always thought her voice had a soothing tone, even more so when she went into therapist mode and talked to him in that manner you used with kids and stray dogs. Today it seemed to carry a tranquil quality, lulling him into a false sense of security. Encouraging him to open his mouth and spill his stupid guts.

"He has something else to take care of." It came out as a whisper, and he couldn't even believe he'd made the connection, finally, after all of these weeks. "Something that's no longer me."

"And there we have our answer." She leaned back against the booth and smiled at him. "Have you talked with Wes about your feelings?"

How the hell could he have discussed this with Wes when he hadn't even known he'd had feelings for his partner until this very moment? Asking her that question would be idiotic, however, because she'd insist he'd known all along and had refused to acknowledge it. If he were willing to delve in to that black hole of his own emotions, he could maybe admit that she might even be right about that.

Hell, who was he kidding? He knew she was right about it, he'd had feelings for Wes for a very long time, but he'd kept them buried under layers and layers of hostility. It became more and more obvious the longer he sat here with her eyes boring into the top of his skull.

"I haven't talked to him yet."

"Why not?"

Because he was chicken? "I didn't understand until now how much these changes were bugging me. His desire to move out of the hotel after what, two years now? And buying a house and starting a life. It's too much."

"Did you ever think that it might be too much for him as well?" Her question tugged at him, drawing his focus outward towards her. "He could use a friend right now to help ease the transition."

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Yeah, you're right, Dr. Ryan. If anyone's helping him ease into anything, it should be me." Something in that sentence made him pause, but he wasn't sure what it was. He could analyze that later, when his head was clear again.

"So why are you still sitting here? Shouldn't you be going to find your partner?"

At long last, he allowed the full force of his million-watt smile grace his face. "Yeah, I should be. Thanks, Dr. Ryan." He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Setting some money onto the table – he hoped it was enough for both their food and a decent tip – he waved his goodbye.

Outside, he straddled his bike before dialing his cell phone.

"Mitchell," the annoyed voice said.

"I'm on my way back to the station, baby. You need anything?"

A sigh, soft and long-suffering, hit his ear like a spring breeze. "Just my partner back at his damn desk so we could maybe get some work done today. Nothing too impossible."

"I'm on my way," he said. "Oh, and by the way, Dr. Ryan said to tell you hello."

"Dr. Ryan?" Wes' voice was confused and that made Travis giddy. He loved keeping the blond off balance. "What are you talk –"

He ended the call midsentence. Even though he'd figured a few things out for himself, he still wasn't one hundred percent ready to let Wes in on it all. Not yet, but soon. Until then, the boy could wait. Kick-starting his bike to life, he stuffed his head into his helmet and pulled into the street. He'd give it a few days and maybe one night next week, he'd take Wes out and confess. If he got the blond full of enough Scotch, he might not even yell.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was good enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you going to tell me why you saw Dr. Ryan?" Wes opened the door of his car and slid in behind the wheel. It didn't surprise him that Travis had gone off the reservation like that, but it had shocked him that he'd done it to see their former therapist.

Travis shrugged. "Just had some stuff to get off my chest and she seemed like the perfect person to dump on."

That hadn't come out quite how Travis had expected, judging by the look on his face. Wes smiled, it was reassuring to know that, no matter how much things changed between them, some things would always stay the same. Travis' mouth being one of them. "What kind of stuff, or shouldn't I ask?"

He kept his eyes glued to the road in front of him, but he could swear he felt Travis' gaze boring into him. It was beginning to unnerve him and he chanced a peek to the side. Yep, he was being watched from the passenger seat. Should he say something?

"Just stuff," Travis said, saving him from having to ask again. "Trying to make my life make sense now that everything's so different."

"Maybe you just need a date," he said, wincing. Why the hell had he suggested that? Travis had stopped screwing everything that gave him a minute of their time lately and that was one thing he did not want to change, ever. Well, unless he was… no.

God, he was so over this.

"Nah," Travis said in a startling twist of reality. "I'm kind of burned out on dating right now."

"You're lucky I didn't just wreck the car," he laughed. "Did you really just say you were tired of hooking up?" He could feel those Windex eyes burrowing into the side of his head again. It took everything he had to keep from looking over at Travis.

He shrugged again. "Yeah."

"Any reason," he asked, praying Travis would spill his guts, all the while terrified of what his response might be. "I mean, if you want to talk about it."

"Actually, I do."

Wes listened to Travis readjusting his position in the passenger seat. He found himself suddenly nervous, unsure of why Marks' declaration had him so on edge. "Do I need to pull over?"

Travis chuckled, a warm and happy sound filling the car. "Naw, man. I'm not dying or anything. I've just found someone." His voice trailed off, leaving a stifling silence between them.

"You have?" Wes gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white and heart pounding. "Who is she? Do I know her?"

"Yeah, you do," he said, a smile in his voice. "You know her pretty well."

Something gripped his lungs tightly, strangling the breath from him. It had to be Jonelle, because Kendall hadn't ever fallen victim to his partner's charms. Or had she? Wes had no way of knowing, not for sure, but he was pretty positive she hadn't. If it was Jonelle, that was a good thing. She was smart, beautiful, intelligent… and yet, she still wasn't – no. "Are you going to give me a name or do I have to guess?"

Why can't it be Wesley?

Again, laughter floated up from the passenger seat. "Not yet. Just know that I've found someone that's worth taking my time for. Someone worth waiting on."

"And this is what you talked to Dr. Ryan about?" He hoped he'd kept the despair out of his voice.

"Yep." Travis was quiet for a moment. "You make a decision on which house you're going to buy yet? Or has the lure of the lawn made your mind up for you?"

Wes' tongue flicked out, traced his lower lip, and disappeared again. "You're changing the subject," he said, frowning. "I wanted to give them both another look before making my choice. I was kind of hoping you'd come along and give me your opinion if you have time."

"Of course I have time, man. Can't have you buying the wrong house, right?" He shook his head. "Lay it out for me, which one do you like best?"

He knew which house he wanted, it was the first one he'd looked at and had everything he'd been looking for. Three bedroom, two bath, a giant kitchen and a lovely back yard. It had wooden flooring and freshly painted walls. What he needed was for Travis to agree with his choice. It was insane, but he'd given in to that brand of crazy a month ago, exactly two days after he started looking for a new home.

"They're both great with lots of space and amenities."

"But which one has the better lawn?"

"You're such an ass sometimes," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Am I that predictable?"

"I just know you too well," Travis said.

It was true, too. Over the course of their partnership they'd become friends, then enemies. Eventually, they'd settled somewhere in the middle, in a place they were both comfortable with. Comfortable, but not content as far as Wes was concerned.

"I'll never hear the end of this, but the place I'm leaning towards does have the bigger lawn," he said, sneaking a covert glance at Travis. "But it also has three bedrooms so I can have an office and a guest room. You know, for those nights when you're too plastered to make it home safely?"

There'd only been one of those to date, but it had stuck in his mind when he'd been looking for a new place. Even then, Travis had crashed – or passed out, rather – on the couch in Wes' hotel room. In the morning, Wes had found him sprawled on the cushions, one leg half over the back, blanket exposing his lean, muscular chest. It had been a vision, one he had hoped to see again.

"Man, that never happens," Travis said, making a disgusted face. "Well, other than that one time but…"

"…you were coming off a bad breakup," Wes finished for him. That had been tough. Listening to Travis go on and on about this woman and how she'd dumped him before he'd gotten the chance to stand her up. It was ridiculous, but they'd actually had that exact conversation. "If I get this place, you can have more."

"More bad breakups? Why would I want that?" Travis shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "Take me to this place and tell me about the other one."

Looking in his side view mirror, Wes made a lane change and got onto the freeway. "The place I want is bigger and nicer, but the other has its charms too. It has two bedrooms with lovely tile in the kitchen. Nice yard, but not as big as the other place. Central to several restaurants and not far from the station either."

"And yet, you're still partial to this other place? Why?"

Why indeed? "I don't even know," he said, taking a left once he got off the freeway. "I like the idea of having room to grow, in case I ever find someone again. I can build a life, have a family. Or…"

"Or?" Travis' curiosity was piqued and that worried Wes.

"Or a lot of things." He slowed as he turned onto a tree-lined street, wondering if he could ever scrape up enough guts to be honest with Travis. How he pictured the possibilities a place like this held. Of coming home and finding his partner waiting for him outside, or even inside, feet on the coffee table and sipping a beer. "Here. This is it."

Travis looked up and scanned the front of the house, nodding. "Yeah, I think you're right, this is definitely the place."

"You think so?" He exited the car and shut the door behind him. Moving around the car, he waited for Travis to join him on the sidewalk.

"Absolutely. I can totally see you living here, your fancy ass car in the drive, soup bubbling on the stove. It's a really nice place, Wes."

"Thanks, Travis. Believe it or not, it was important that you liked this place." He looked at the ground and kicked at a leaf stuck to the concrete. It was more than wanting Travis' approval though, but he didn't know how to say as much.

"Why on earth do I need to like it?"

There was an unidentifiable hitch in his partner's voice that he couldn't reconcile and it made him uncomfortable. "Because I hoped you'd come around more often if I wasn't living in 'that damn hotel' any longer. We'd have more space to spread out files and if the case took us all night, you'd have your – have a place to crash." He cringed at the fact he'd come so close to saying Travis would have his own room.

Travis' eyes left the front of the house and found Wes' face. "You want me to come around more often?" Wes nodded. "Just for case work or?"

"Or just because you have nothing else to do." It was the hardest thing he'd ever said and it was killing him. "I was hoping you'd want to, Travis."

Those pale blue eyes studied him for an eternity before blinking. "You want me to want to come visit you."

It was a statement rather than a question, one that twisted his insides into knots and made him want to do something unseemly, like vomit on the perfectly trimmed grass at his feet. Anger flamed from his insecurity, covering it in a blaze of glory he knew he'd regret later. "Damn you, yes I want to you to want to be around me. You're always telling me you know me so well and yet you miss this? Something that Jonelle pointed out to me as being so obvious not even an idiot could miss it?" He threw his hands in the air and turned away from Travis, muttering about the many kinds of fool he was.

"Wes, wait," Travis said, reaching out and grabbing him by the arm. "Stop."

He pulled his arm out of Travis' grasp with a sharp tug. Although he stopped walking away, he refused to look his partner in the eye. Running both hands through his hair, he tried to regain his composure. "Why? Tell me one reason why I should stop and listen to you."

"Because I want to, man." Travis sighed, weary and fraught with something Wes couldn't put a name to. Frustration, annoyance, despair, who knew? "You think you're easy to read, but you're not. I can only pick up on things when you've done them a million times. You've not had many emotional breakdowns since we've been partners."

"If this is supposed to make me feel better, it's not." Although, Travis had said he'd wanted to. Wes held onto those words, hope building in his chest.

"This is why I went to see Dr. Ryan yesterday," he said, admitting finally to the big mystery. "Because the idea of you getting a place of your own bugged me."

Wes turned and looked at Travis' sad face. "You've been telling me to move on for almost two years now. Why would my finally doing what you asked bug you so much?"

Travis shrugged – something he was becoming very adept at. "Because things were changing, Wes. You were changing, and let's face it, you're the most inflexible person I know." He rubbed his jaw with the palm of his hand and gave a weak smile. "You started talking about having things to do, stuff to fix and my frustration only got worse every time you mentioned the move. She helped me understand that I was so upset because the one thing you didn't add to your list of things to care for was me."

He stood on the sidewalk, unable to speak. Travis' confession had rocked him to his core and left him shaken. When he opened his mouth to respond, Marks continued talking.

"So yeah, I can see you living here because I can see me visiting you here. Parking my bike in the drive beside your car, leaving my helmet by the front door. I can even hear you yelling at me to wipe my feet before stepping on your pristine light colored carpet. Because only you would have light colored carpet, Wes." He made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a snort.

"Are you done yet?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Good, because you just sealed the deal. I'm getting this place tonight." Lifting a finger, he shook it in Travis' direction. "I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you that I'd continue to take care of you, Travis. I mean, look at you, you're a mess. I have to take care of you if I want to keep my partner. Training another is too much work anyway."

Laughter bubbled up from Travis' chest, filling the air around them. "You are too much, baby. But I like it."

Wes allowed himself a small smile, still too unsure to let himself be happy. "Does this mean you like me?"

Travis frowned for a second before nodding. "Honey, I'd go so far as to say that I think I love your prickly self. But don't quote me on that."

"You might want to take me on a date before you start declaring your love for me," Wes said, adding a dismissive hand wave at the end for good measure. "Or those words might come back to bit you in your perfect ass."

"Because that's never happened before, right?" Travis reached out and tugged at Wes' arm again, drawing him nearer. "Can you show me the inside?"

"Not right now," he said, looking from Travis' face to the house he was about to make an offer on. "But we can come back tonight with the realtor. I'm going to call her as soon as we get back to the station. Would you come back with me tonight if I do that?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I'll come back and help you buy our new place." Travis released his grip on Wes' arm and strode up the drive so he could peek in the windows.

"Wait, Travis? No, this is my place, not ours. At least, it's not ours yet. Aren't you jumping the gun a bit?" Panic filled him at the idea of Travis Marks moving in with him.

"You are so easy, blondie. I'm yanking your chain." He made his way back down the drive and patted Wes' face with one large hand. "I'll move in next month. Until then, how about you feed me? I'm starving."

"Well," Wes said, unlocking the car. "I was going to offer to buy you dinner, but after this, you can buy your own damn dinner.

"Man, that's not fair." Travis climbed into the car and pulled his seatbelt on as Wes pulled away from the curb.

"You think that's not fair? You wait until you get my list of rules for this new place."

"You are obsessive, you know that? You don't even own this place yet and you're already yelling at me for getting mud on the tile."

"It doesn't have tile, it has wood floors. Do you not ever listen to me?"

"I listened when you had your little breakdown back there on the sidewalk because you didn't think I wanted to spend time with you."

"Oh just shut up!" Wes pulled to a stop at the red light, glaring at Travis in the passenger's seat. The sight of his partner's eyes lit up with mirth was almost his undoing. "You're just fucking with me, aren't you? Because you can?"

"Guilty."

"God, I hate you right now," Wes said, focusing back on the road, waiting for the light to turn green.

"No you don't, you love me," Travis said, drawing out the word 'love'.

Wes contemplated running the car off the road and smashing into the nearest wall, but thought better of it. Even though he'd never admit it to anyone, this was another of those things he was happy hadn't changed between the two of them. This continual back and forth verbal sparring had become a stress reliever for them both. It made the job so much easier when you could tell your partner to go to hell and know he'd still have your back an hour later when you needed him.

He glanced at Travis in the passenger's seat. He was tapping his fingers on the dash, humming along with a song on the radio. Wes did agree though that while things sometimes had to change, he was both anticipating and dreading the upcoming modification to their relationship. But he'd never backed down from a challenge and dating Travis Marks was the trial of a lifetime.

Reaching over the center console, he held out his hand, palm up. Travis looked at it in confusion before grinning and taking Wes' hand into his own. Yeah, they could do this. It wouldn't be easy, but they'd find a way. And if they crashed and burned? He was still positive they could salvage their friendship and make it work through the awkwardness. They had to.


End file.
